


Somewhere In Between

by VillainVogue



Series: The Other Side(s) [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Side Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainVogue/pseuds/VillainVogue
Summary: Glimpses into the world of A Little Bit To The Left, and a look at what the other Sides from both worlds were doing while the Creativities were in void-space.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: The Other Side(s) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852681
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	1. The Duke and the Baron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! This is just a collection of moments I couldn't fit into the main two stories--glimpses of past Sanders Sides episodes from the other universe, a look into what everyone else experienced in the 'space between worlds' (aka the setting of Chapter 7 of both stories), and perhaps an exploration of the near future for both universes if the inspiration strikes me. Mild gore/body horror and some 'adult humor' in this chapter because... well, it's canon!Remus and alt!Roman. I promise it's as mild and as brief as I could make it while still staying true to the characters.

When Remus closes his eyes, there's only a moment of darkness before his vision is filled with familiar yet entirely new faces. There's a scale-less Janus, his freckled face unguarded and honest as he smiles. A gloomier Patton, whose eyes are red-rimmed with tear tracks shining down his cheeks, arms curled defensively around himself. A Virgil who stands tall, frowning underneath his safety goggles out of concentration rather than concern. A Logan in sunglasses who's even more closed-off than the one he knows, whose style is just as sharp as his words.

And finally, a flash of blood-red and glittering gold, a mace clashing against a cutlass, a glimpse of his twin's face smeared with soot before it disappears in smoke, and something in the air changes with an audible _whoosh._

The moment afterwards, Other-Him's hands slip out of his grasp, and Remus smells something burning. He entertains the thought, for a moment, that perhaps Thomas is having a stroke, before he opens his eyes to see someone who is and is not Roman.

The Side before him seems just as surprised, but both of them recover quickly, rushing up to meet in the middle of this nebulous space and inspect each other more closely.

"You've got teeth on your outfit? That's fucking _brilliant_ , I love it. I'm the Baron, by the way." Not-Roman says, giving him a sharp grin as he picks at one of Remus' sleeves.

"Thank you, I harvested them myself!" Remus says brightly, taking in the Baron's leather-and-brocade abomination of a jacket with nothing short of delight. "I'm the Duke, and those shoulder spikes are just _lovely_."

The Baron clasps him by the shoulders, still grinning. "Right? They're sharp in _both_ senses of the word. Excellent title, Duke! Being a prince is _so_ overrated."

He rolls his eyes so hard that one of them pops out of its socket, and Remus nods in agreement so vigorously that he feels like his head might detach from his neck. It's a delight and a dream, to have this version of Roman standing before him who understands, who knows, who _likes him_ and isn't afraid to say it.

But it's also wrong, and not the kind of 'wrong' that Remus enjoys. There has to be balance between the Creativities, and it can't come from this combination. Thomas needs the Roman with the stick up his ass and the saccharine, _safe_ ideas, as well as the Remus who pushes him to look deeper, to embrace the dark and strange and _new_.

The Baron seems to have fixed his fallen eye while Remus has been lost in thought, and he's staring curiously at Remus now--waiting for a response, perhaps.

"I wish I could take you home with me." He says, somehow landing in-between raw honesty and humor.

The Baron's eyebrows shoot up and he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense, but he's still faintly smiling and his eyes are shining with understanding. "At least buy me dinner first!"

Remus snorts with laughter, because that's exactly what he would've said, and he sees the Baron visibly relax--he'd tensed up immediately after speaking, evidently expecting a negative reaction. Remus shakes his head and opens his arms.

"C'mere." He says, and as soon as the Baron steps within reach, he's put in a headlock as Remus cackles and ruffles his hair.

"Not the hair!" The Baron squawks, elbowing Remus sharply in the side until he's released, at which point he steps back to a safe distance to fix the mess Remus has made of his hairstyle.

Remus, meanwhile, is grinning so widely that he thinks his face might just split in two. "Aww, poor you and your precious _hair_. Good to know some things stay the same across universes..."

* * *

If Roman was feeling a little less stable, he might've taken a swing at the Duke for that, but he can tell from the gleam in his eyes that his brother from another Mindscape would be all too happy to hit him back, and Roman's not interested in picking fights he might not win.

Instead, he sticks out his tongue, letting it stretch just a little longer than should be humanly possible before pulling it back into his mouth with a loud wet _smack_.

The Duke applauds. "Neat! Hey, do you think if you stretched your tongue long enough, you could lick your own junk like a cat? What do you suppose the others would think of _that?_ "

Roman throws his head back and laughs. "Oh, I can just imagine the look on Patton's face right now, that's _hysterical_ \--"

The air is briefly punched from his lungs as the Duke collides with him, his arms wrapping around Roman's shoulders despite (or perhaps because of) the sharp spikes on his jacket.

"What's that for?" Roman asks, hands coming up to awkwardly return the hug.

"It's just nice. You know?" Says the Duke, his voice suddenly gone soft and a little wobbly. And Roman does know what he means--it's nice to have someone appreciate what he can do, that likes his ideas and builds on them like his brother used to when they were young.

He's reminded that he and this Duke are brothers, too, and the thought makes him tighten his grip until the Duke starts to claw at his leather sleeves, gasping for air. Abruptly, they release each other at just about the same time, the Duke fixing his impractical collar while Roman inspects the new scratch marks on his jacket.

With their matching grimaces, it seems they've come to the same conclusion--they can't stay like this for much longer. They're not meant to fit this way, their edges are too sharp. They need their brothers, the ones from the respectively correct Mindscapes, to blunt the blade, cushion the blow, just as much as their brothers need them to be the steel underneath their silk, the spice to their sweetness.

The Duke pulls a face, looking off to the side, and Roman turns to see their counterparts, a perfectly matching pair of princes. They're roughhousing, sort of--a sanitized, gentle version that makes Roman want to puke from the sheer _wholesomeness_ of it all. Beside him, the Duke makes a retching noise, and Roman chuckles.

"Yeah, those are our gross, embarrassing brothers, huh?" He slings an arm around the Duke, who grumbles and ducks away, fixing the dents Roman had made in his precious puffy sleeves.

"I thought _we_ were the gross embarrassing brothers."

Roman shrugs. "Ah, well, you know what they say. One man's trash... Is another man's murder victim disposal system!"

The Duke applauds, giggling. "Oh, I love that! I'm absolutely gonna use it the next time I get to talk to Thomas."

Roman grins back. "Please do! And I'm totally trying that tongue thing next chance I get."

"Aww, I'm honored." The Duke says, putting one hand over his heart and giving a slight bow. "You'll have to find a way to get back to me with the results!"

"Of course! I'm sure I'll figure something out. And please, the honor is all mine." Roman responds, executing a bow of his own with an over-the-top flourish.

When he straightens up (not that he's ever straight, ha ha) he can see out of the corner of his eye that the princes are saying their goodbyes in some maudlin, boring affair. Roman's never liked big dramatic farewell gestures, not unless they've got explosions and/or nudity. But he doesn't think he can summon any dynamite in this strange in-between space, so he'll settle for something a little more casual, just this once.

"Until we meet again, my dear Dukey." He says, punching the other Side in the arm before stepping back.

The Duke grins approvingly at the nickname, and waggles his fingers in a wave. "See ya 'round, Red Baron!"

They're not their brothers, they don't need to turn and walk away towards home in some kind of poetic gesture. Instead, Roman closes his eyes at the same time the Duke starts to tip himself backwards into the void, and as he feels the shadows wisp around him, he thinks about the others--the Other others.

The Patton in pastels with the unexpectedly bright smile, the Virgil with the stitched-up hoodie and even more snark than Roman's used to, the snake-like Janus who tries to hide his feelings behind that wicked smirk, the Logan who looks so much plainer than Roman expected but whose intellect and determination are just as strong and as deadly as the Logan he knows.

And he sees, as he had when he first entered this place between worlds, green-and-black ruffled sleeves, the spikes of a morningstar as it swings down to meet a gleaming-bright katana, his brother's face covered in grime--before it all disappears under a wave of dark, murky water, replaced by the Remus he knows. Remus with his messy hair damp from a sudden rain in the Imagination but still grinning ear-to-ear. Child Remus with a paper crown and cardboard sword standing above him, solemnly performing some kind of knighthood ceremony. Remus, a little older, as seen from a distance, laughing as he play-wrestles with the giant fanged armadillo-monster that was meant to try and eat him.

Then the visions fade, and Roman is home again.

Later, Roman will pester Virgil with questions about how he can get a message across worlds, how to get back to that void-space on his own, if it's even possible, but first?

First, he has to give his brother a hug.


	2. Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at Roman's introduction and Patton's confession in the Left universe.

Roman is having the time of his life. He got Janus to scream, Remus is unconscious and drooling on the carpet, Patton's cried twice already, they'll all be sneezing glitter for _weeks_ , and Thomas can't stop staring at him.

"Look, Mister Baron, I'm really stupid right now, so if you could just explain who you are-- _simply_ \--that'd be great." Thomas looks so pale, like a corpse, and never once does he take his eyes off Roman. It's _wonderful_.

Roman grins, striking a pose in mimicry of his _dear_ brother. "I'm your Creativity, _duh!_ "

Unfortunately, all that staring at him doesn't mean that Thomas is ready to accept his stated purpose as truth.

" _Remus_ is my Creativity, not you. Creativity is supposed to be magic and adventures, but _you're_ \--"

"--Provocative? Spicy? Too _hot_ to handle?" Roman shrugs, and suddenly he's on fire.

Thomas shakes his head, frowning. "...Scary."

"What?" Roman gasps, and the fire turns to smoke and wisps away as he brings a hand up to his chest. "Scary? It's not _my_ fault you think I'm scary! That's on _you_ , Thomathan..."

He can see Patton curling in on himself out of the corner of his eye, and he sneers and jerks a thumb in the anxious Side's direction. "Actually, maybe it's on _him_."

Patton, wide-eyed and tearful, Patton who held him while he screamed until his lungs gave out the day his brother separated the Imagination for good, Patton who patched up all his many injuries and made him cocoa and then one day _left_ without so much as a _word_ to Roman, Patton who he misses despite how much he hated his stubborn attempts to get him to clean up after himself and his many lectures on the importance of safety--Patton _glares_ at him with more vitriol than Roman had thought he was capable of.

He's just about to make some comment about how the teddy bear finally grew a spine when Virgil starts up again.

"Look, Thomas, like it or not, the Baron does represent an... alternate aspect of your imagination."

"'Alternative' is a very charitable way of putting it..." Janus mutters, and Roman wants to reach over and strangle him with his stupid cravat. Unfortunately, Deceit's made it clear that he's not allowed to 'get physical' with Janus or Patton if he wants to be allowed to keep the glitter cannon he used in his intro song.

So instead, he rounds on the moral Side with a wide, too-bright smile. "Personally, I prefer 'wildly unpredictable'. And don't forget 'prone to violent outbursts'!"

Janus recoils, and Roman gives him an exaggerated wink, not bothering to hide his delight at the reaction.

"Why are you defending him?" Patton's voice is quiet but still carries that whiny quality it used to while he complained to Deceit about Roman 'bothering' him (and some of those times, Roman wasn't even _trying_ ).

Virgil sighs, and Roman can tell he's fighting not to roll his eyes. "I'm just trying to help Thomas understand what's true in this situation and what's not. Objectively. _Someone_ has to."

Patton's brow furrows in concern and Roman, never one to waste an opportunity once he's spotted it, gasps dramatically. "Hang on to your butts, I've had a thought! You guys, what if Deceit disguised himself as Virgil again?"

He snickers as chaos erupts around him, eventually turning to a full-on belly laugh as Virgil struggles to restore order. Even though he knows that he can't stall Virgil forever, that eventually he'll take the wind out of his sails before the ship can crash spectacularly on the rocks and leave its crew to bleed and drown in gory cinematic glory, this is still the best day he's had in _ages_.

* * *

This is the worst day Patton's had in _ages_.

Yes, worse, somehow, than when he'd first started appearing to Thomas, worse than when he'd tried to duck out (quack), worse than when Deceit had first shown up--worse, too, than the last time Deceit had popped in and hinted at Thomas that Patton was still hiding things, a moment he's replayed so many times since that he's lost count.

The Baron is here, and he's as loud and unsettling and _mean_ as ever. He hates Patton, this is a fact; he'd always hated Patton for trying to keep him out of trouble, out of danger, but at one time, Patton...

Well, he hadn't loved him, exactly, but he'd _tried_ to. He really did. The problem was the Baron, it always had been, who kicked and bit and spat at Patton when he tried to haul the Side into the bathtub after yet another messy escapade in the Imagination, who sneered and swore at Patton when he voiced his concerns about dangerous plans and inappropriate ideas. Patton had only wanted to help, and the Baron had only wanted to fight.

Patton will never forget the young Baron keeping watch in his bedroom with a toy mace in hand, declaring he'd fight off any more nightmares that dared to come Patton's way, and he'll always remember the screaming bundle of rage and grief he'd held on the day that the chasm appeared between his part of the Imagination and Remus' kingdom, and he'll always feel guilty for turning his back on that, but looking at the Baron now, it's hard to remember the regret, the rare moments of peace and understanding, the late nights watching Looney Tunes and drinking cocoa with cinnamon.

It's hard to think of a lot of things, right now, and that's largely due to Thomas' lack of sleep, not Patton's own (though he's spent many a sleepless night over his decisions, his past, especially in recent months).

The conversation passes in something of a blur, save for the moments when the Baron interjects with the memory of Thomas' violent and blood-soaked nightmares, and the one question that they all keep circling around these days, the one he's been hung up on for a long time--does this mean that Thomas is a bad person?

And perhaps he's pushing the issue too much, but he needs an answer just as badly as Janus does, just as much as Thomas himself. Patton needs to be able to sleep at night again, he needs reassurance, security--and if it doesn't come soon, he doesn't want to find out what will happen.

"How can you be sure?" He asks Virgil for what feels like the tenth time. "What if--"

"Patton, _enough_." Virgil snaps at him, and Patton's transported back to a darker room, a darker time, with bright piercing eyes staring down at him, cold and placid.

"Uh-oh, Pat!" Roman taunts him from the other side of the room. "It's time for Virgil's opinion, buckle up..."

Virgil sighs, shaking his head. "No, it's time you all listened to Thomas. He's already said that he doesn't want to act on the Baron's suggestions. How does that not put this whole debate to rest?"

"What if he's lying?" Patton doesn't even register that he's asked the question out loud until he sees Janus' face scrunch up with worry.

"Come on, Pat, just think about it rationally. Would you or Janus be so upset by all this if Thomas wasn't upset too?" Virgil's using that tone that Patton hates, the one that borders on condescension, that makes him feel like a child, but he's got a point. Even so...

"But what about Jeffrey Dahmer?" He asks at the same time as the Baron, and he's too distraught from the knowledge that even with all the distance between them, Roman still knows what gets under his skin, to pay much attention until he hears Virgil blame him for the Baron's effect on Thomas.

"Sorry, Pat, but it's true." Virgil grimaces apologetically. Patton's ears start to ring as he feels his face heat up with shame and guilt and _hurt_.

"Aww. Poor Pattoncakes!" Roman jeers. "He tries so hard, but he just can't stop being the bad guy--"

"--It's also Janus." Virgil interrupts before Roman can say anything that Patton will truly regret.

"Say what now?" The Baron blinks as Janus looks sharply at Virgil, who shrugs.

"He's being too strict... Wow. _Janus_ is being too strict, that's new. Uh, does this make me the fun one now? Am I--am I _cool_ , now, or--"

Roman snarls and jerks his hand upwards, and Virgil's tie slips from around his neck to stuff itself into his mouth.

Patton barely pays attention when Roman reveals his name to Thomas, or when Virgil rejoins the conversation, or when Janus stammers out an apology for causing Thomas such distress, because he keeps going back to the thought that it's his fault--and it is, Janus' involvement in repressing Roman's suggestions notwithstanding, it's Patton's fault that he's bothering Thomas, Patton's fault that Deceit's started skulking around in the Core Mindscape, Patton's fault, Patton's fault--

"Patton? Buddy, are you okay?" Thomas' voice cuts through the whirlwind of guilt, and Patton realizes that the others have all disappeared.

"Uh, yeah, kiddo, I, um..." No. He can't bring himself to lie. Not this time. "I'm just sorry I couldn't protect you from them."

"The 'Dark Sides'?" Thomas asks, and Patton tries very hard not to flinch at that.

"The 'Others'." He says, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

Thomas nods. "It's okay. We're all trying to figure out how to deal with them."

Patton frowns. "But I should've done more--"

"Why?" Thomas asks, with such wide-eyed innocence that Patton wants desperately to wrap him in a hug that never ends, but above the sound of his fast-beating heart his head is screaming at him to _rip off the band-aid, do it now before you chicken out_. "I don't think there's anything more you could've done, so why be so hard on yourself? I mean, it's not like--"

"--I was one of them."

Patton watches as Thomas recoils, staring at him silently. Suddenly he can't bear to look any longer, can't bear to wait around to hear Thomas' inevitable rejection, and he sinks out while fighting tears.

Once he pops up in his own room, he collapses onto the soft, soft bed, and wails his despair into the nearest pillow as the walls start to close in.


	3. Sunshine and Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton meets his counterpart in the in-between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!!! Thanks for waiting, everyone. I lost a large portion of this chapter due to a computer issue, and I've been absolutely swamped with life stuff the last few months, but I'm back and I've got a large chunk of the next chapter done already so rest assured that the next update will not have as long of a wait :P

Patton's hit with the instinct to close his eyes as soon as Remus joins hands with the Prince--he's not sure why, maybe he's worried there'll be a bright light, maybe he just doesn't like goodbyes, most likely it's a bit of both, but whatever the reason, he trusts his gut impulse and does so.

He's met with visions of the others: Logan looks like some kind of cool secret agent, he thinks, with his sunglasses and long coat, but he doesn't look very happy. Virgil looks disheveled but put-together at the same time, and it's strange to see him in a button-up and tie, but it kind of suits him. Roman... Roman looks dangerous, but Patton can tell somehow that the spikes and bloodstains are mostly for show, and underneath the frightening exterior is someone who just wants to be noticed. The Remus he knows screams for attention the same way, Patton realizes, and he feels so incredibly guilty for trying to push him aside in this moment that the next face doesn't quite register right away, but...

It's Janus, and he looks exactly the way Patton imagines he would appear now, in his world, if the Side in question hadn't been labeled as 'bad' so early in Thomas' life. If Patton had known enough back then to want to let him stay. No scales, no sharp edge to his smile, just freckles and warmth and a touch of mischief. There's an undercurrent of sadness somewhere, but it might only be Patton's remorseful mind making projections.

He realizes with a chill that he doesn't want to see what he looks like, but he can't stop the deluge of images now. Red-rimmed eyes and shimmering tears, a canopied ceiling closing in, smothering softness, fairy lights flickering and dimming, a fraying black sweater around his shoulders and the soles of his shoes worn out from pacing.

Someone across from him gasps, and Patton opens his eyes, assuming that another Side is experiencing the same thing and is in distress, but--it's him.

...Although he looks to be in a lot better shape than in the memory-images Patton was just shown. His eyes are still a little red, but he's got a brand-new hoodie, and--

"We match!" The other him exclaims, gesturing at his own black cat hoodie and then at Patton's grey, before he stops and shrinks in on himself. "...Sorry, I just got excited."

Patton's heart breaks for this other version of him, who's clearly of the belief that his happiness is too much, that he's wrong to take up space and to voice his thoughts. He wants to cry, but instead, he smiles and says, "We _do_ match! That's pretty paw-some!"

His punning efforts are rewarded with the flash of a grin and a quiet, barely-there laugh. Encouraged, he presses closer, and the other-him--Anxiety--looks up with wide eyes at the movement.

Patton remembers a moment too late how particular Virgil is about physical contact and proximity. Has he overstepped Anxiety's boundaries yet again? Has he ruined it? Quickly--but not so quickly as to startle, he hopes--he steps back, lifting his hands up to show that he means no harm.

Anxiety's brow wrinkles--oh, he's frowning, he's upset, Patton assumes, but the expression resolves into obvious confusion. They both fidget with the sleeves of their hoodies in the awkward silence that settles after that, until Patton caves and breaks it.

"I--could I give you a hug?"

* * *

There's a desperate edge to Morality's voice, Patton can hear it--he's afraid of something. Patton's all too familiar with that particular emotion, and he has to admit, he's afraid too.

What happens if they touch? Sure, both versions of Roman were fine, but they were in the Mindscape, not... wherever this is. Where are they? How do they get back? Can they get back? What if--

"--do? Kiddo, hey, it's okay. Just breathe with me." Morality's voice cuts through the panic, his voice almost as unsteady as Patton feels.

Once Patton's breathing starts to slow, Morality seems to recall something, flinching away as his lips quirk downwards for a brief moment. His expression quickly shifts into an obviously forced smile, and Patton wants to cry at the sight of this version of him who's so afraid of showing his sadness, his discomfort, who spends too much energy pretending to be all right. Patton understands it, certainly--it appears that every version of Patton is afraid of being a burden on the others, funny how that works--but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

"Sorry." Morality mumbles, still fighting to keep smiling even as he hangs his head. "I shouldn't call you kiddo, should I?"

_Oh._

Yes, Patton thinks, this other-him isn't so different after all.

He could brush things off with a dad joke, bring a little light into the situation, but that's not where his real expertise lies, and that's not what's needed here. Instead, he shrugs. "It's a nice change, actually. You know, you spend so long looking after everyone else, you kind of forget what it's like to... be looked after."

Other-Him's eyes unfocus for a moment, his shoulders slump, until he collects himself, tries to force the happy-smiley mask back on. Patton's speaking again before his own fear can stop him. "You don't have to pretend you're okay. Believe me, I know you're not. Neither am I. A-and that's okay. It's okay not to be okay..."

He trails off with a grimace. That just sounded lame, he thinks, bringing his mind back to the early days of hanging around the Core Sides, feeling like he couldn't do anything worthwhile, anything good, but Morality nods, and opens his arms for a hug, and Patton falls into that embrace as easily as breathing.

"This is nice." He mumbles into the fabric of the grey hoodie his counterpart is wearing, careful not to let his fluorescent tears make an appearance and stain the garment. "Thank you."

"It is nice." Morality's voice wobbles a bit, and Patton breathes deep and steady, determined not to follow suit. "We're not okay, but... It feels like we will be. Right?"

He doesn't quite trust his voice, so a nod will have to suffice. And he's not lying when he agrees--despite his worrywart nature, Patton feels _optimistic_. At least, he does right now. Later, probably, he'll think too much about the future and get worried again, but for now, he can let himself believe that when he gets home, everything will be fine.

He closes his eyes, turning his face into the crook of Morality's neck even as he feels the other Side dissolve away, returning to his rightful place. Behind his eyes, images flash--Remus mid-leap with a morningstar and a shrill, cackling laugh. Logan's eyes lighting up (not literally this time) as he gestures to a chart he's made. Janus with a serpent's face and a smooth, low voice, smirking in a way he's never seen before. The Roman he met just today, in a polished white-gold-red prince outfit, striking a pose as he sings his heart out.

And then there's Virgil, hoodie flipped over his head as he fights to hide a smile behind a scowl. His eyes are dark, his shoulders are hunched, and Patton worries, but then he sees himself, Morality on a good day with a beaming smile and a terrible pun on his lips, heart on the sleeve of his bright blue polo, the sunshine after the rain. Patton wishes, for a moment, that he could have that brightness for himself, before the scene shifts and he sees himself, his _actual_ self, making a blanket fort with Remus, showing Janus how to make scones, bringing a tray loaded with cookies and cocoa to a grateful crowd in the living room for movie night.

Hugging Thomas tight after a nightmare, letting him know it's okay to be afraid. Thomas standing just a little bit taller because of what _he'd_ said to encourage him and keep him grounded before an audition.

Patton shakes his head, clearing the visions away as he does. No more daydreaming, he's needed here, and he's needed exactly as he is. He's got his kiddos to take care of, and he wouldn't wish for anything else.


	4. Accepting Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other universe's version of Accepting Anxiety (part 2).

He can't quite pinpoint when it all became too much, when he decided he couldn't handle playing the strict parent any longer. Maybe it was in his last conversation with Deceit, who'd tried his best to dismiss Patton's concerns but had come across condescending (as usual). Maybe it was from the last time Thomas cast him in a villainous role in a video. Maybe it was because of the sting of Virgil brushing him off so soon after their debate, when Patton thought the two of them had come to an understanding. Maybe it was Janus' obvious grimace at seeing him the last time he'd made an appearance.

Mostly, though, Remus' open scorn is what he keeps going back to. The scowls and grumbled complaints whenever Patton showed up in the core Mindscape, the eye-rolls and barbed comments whenever he tried to speak to Thomas--not that Patton had treated him well, either, which now that he thinks about it is what's really pushed him to duck out.

" _This is a **completely sustainable** approach, Anxiety._" Deceit had told him, an obvious lie that Patton knew to be true in its backwards way. He's gone overboard, and it's hurt the core Sides, but most importantly, it's hurt Thomas. And if this isn't what Thomas needs, this tight grip of guilt and worry, then _Patton_ isn't needed.

So for once, he's doing what's best.

He keeps telling himself that, like a mantra, until he feels something shift in his area of the Mindscape, and when he goes to check...

"Anxiety!"

...Everyone is there. Janus, Virgil, Remus, _Thomas_.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so glad to see you!" Thomas gives him a shaky smile that Patton refuses to believe.

"You really shouldn't be in here." He says, setting his mouth in a stern line that screams _I'm not mad, just disappointed--_ which is an expression he hates to affect, but desperate times, and all that.

Thomas blinks at him, dumbfounded. Janus shoots him an apologetic grimace, and Remus draws a deep breath, but it's Virgil who speaks first.

"We had to get you back, dude. Without your influence, Thomas was a complete moron--sorry, Thomas, but you know it's true."

It's Thomas' turn to grimace. "Yeah, I really was. Anxiety, I had no idea how much stuff you're actually responsible for. Turns out you're a lot more important than I thought... I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner."

Patton can only shake his head. Janus seems to take the gesture for something it isn't, because he asks, oh so softly, "Is that why you left?"

"What?" He manages in response, noting with a sinking feeling that Janus is tearing up.

"Did you lock yourself away because we weren't treating you--" The other Side cuts himself off, biting his lip. Virgil finishes the thought for him.

"We know that we haven't been very... accommodating to you." He says, fiddling with the end of his loose tie. "Which is putting it mildly, obviously. And I don't think any of us would blame you for wanting to remove yourself from an uncomfortable situation."

"We made you feel like you weren't wanted." Janus whispers, his voice cracking, and oh no, he's crying. The fairy lights strung up around Patton's room flicker once, then twice, but he ignores the warning for what it is, because this conversation is too important.

"Well... I mean, you _did_ do that, but... I'm _Anxiety_. Why would you want me around? _I'm_ the one making all of _you_ uncomfortable, aren't I? I-I thought it would be best for Thomas if I just... ducked out, you know?"

Janus makes a small, wounded noise, and Thomas' eyes widen, but again, it's Virgil who speaks up first.

"No! No, you can't do that! That's an objectively terrible choice, not just for you, but for all of us." He's unusually loud, and it startles Patton and the rest of them into silence long enough for Virgil to explain the Yerkes-Dodson curve and how Patton's role as Anxiety fits into it.

Patton purses his lips, wanting to ask for clarification but not wanting to sound foolish, dreading the impatient and irritated response he'll surely receive from Virgil. It's more than a relief when Thomas chimes in.

"In other words... Having no anxiety at all is scientifically proven to be a bad thing. Right?"

"I mean, basically, that." Virgil shrugs. "Sure, too much anxiety is also a 'bad thing', but we've established that listening to any one of us too much can lead to some not-so-great outcomes, so Anxiety, it's not just you that can negatively impact Thomas, it's all of us. But all of us can also affect him in a positive way. And you _do_ , you just didn't realize it before."

Patton blinks at him, memories of the debate flooding back. Virgil had encouraged him to speak, hadn't talked down to him the way Deceit often did--had made him feel heard and respected. Virgil, he realizes, could be his friend. 

Janus sniffs, taking his glove off so he can scrub away the tears that are just beginning to fall. "You just wanted to protect Thomas, and we--I--I'm so sorry, Anxiety. If I'd understood that sooner--"

Patton cuts him off. "Don't, Janus. You can't change the past, and believe me, I know from experience that there's nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. You've been pretty nice to me, actually, so... You don't have to apologize."

And he means that--Janus had always made an effort to include him in the conversation when he was present, despite his obvious displeasure when Patton brought the mood down, he never directed that frustration or disappointment at Patton himself--always inward, which was concerning, but that was a conversation for another time.

His eyes slide over to Remus while Janus fishes a handkerchief out of his coat pocket, and Patton can't help but flinch when Remus meets his gaze. Remus flinches too, which Patton only registers a moment after the fact, and then suddenly he's speaking.

"I know we don't see eye-to-eye on... most things. Maybe everything, now that I think about it. I-I mean, if I tried, I could probably think of something, but it's just, it's like every time we're trying to be happy you're there with the doom and gloom, and it's difficult to--"

Thomas clears his throat. "Not helping, Princey."

Remus cringes, shaking his head briefly like he's clearing water out of his ears. "Sorry, yes, I'm rambling, sorry. What I'm trying to say is, I don't hate you. I act like you're the source of all my problems, because sometimes it feels like you want to stop Thomas from achieving his dreams, and I'm all about achieving those dreams, so, you know, I get frustrated, but I don't hate you, Anxiety. I... I never thought about it before, but I..."

Patton watches Remus open and close his mouth a few times, frowning, though it's not the kind of frown Patton's used to. He looks lost, and sad, and wrong. Patton can feel himself frowning in sympathy.

"We need you." Remus eventually says, quieter than Patton's ever heard him before. "You're the reason that it feels good to do something scary and have it work out okay. That surge of nerves right before Thomas steps out on stage, the thing that pushes him to practice and focus and be a better performer. You make sure he does stuff he can be proud of. That's important. _You're_ important."

Now it's Patton's turn to be rendered speechless. He's never thought of his job that way before. Sure, he knows his job is to keep Thomas safe, he's always known that, but--if _Remus_ , of all Sides, thinks there's more to him and his function than that...

Patton manages a small smile. "Thank you, Remus. For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry for the times I've been too much. For all of you. Thomas, I know I've pushed you too hard in the past, but..."

"--We can work on that together." Thomas says, smiling back at him. "All of us."

"Yes! Yes, exactly!" Virgil exclaims, and Patton sees the manic gleam in his eyes. "We can work out a whole system of communication, code words, signals--"

Janus tries to muffle a sob. "W-we're family, and family helps each other."

Remus, once again, opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

Patton realizes with a jolt that all of them have started to cry.

Thomas looks between each of the Sides in turn, bewildered. "Uh... What's happening? Anxiety?"

"You've been in my room for too long." Patton explains with a grimace. "It's affecting the others. Let's get everyone out of here before we continue this conversation, huh, kiddo?"

Thomas nods, the movement a little frantic, and Patton guides him through a breathing exercise as the Core Sides all begin to sink out, followed last by Thomas and finally himself.

They pop back up in Thomas' living room, as per usual, and Patton can practically taste the relief radiating off of Thomas and the others at a return to normalcy. They thank him, in turn, and Patton can hear Remus' words echoing in his head, urging him to do something scary.

So he does.

"Actually, um. You don't have to keep calling me 'Anxiety'."

Virgil's eyebrows shoot so far up Patton thinks for a moment that they're going to fly off his head. "Are you about to tell us your name?"

Patton nods, slow and suddenly shy. Remus grins, summoning a piece of paper.

"Oh my gosh, finally! I've been making a list of possible names, and, like, if I'd had to wait any longer I would've run out of room to write. I hope one of these is correct! I had so many theories..."

Patton's face heats up, and he ducks his head.

"Easy, now." Janus' voice rings out, a little rough, but steadier than it had been in Patton's room. "Anxiety, you just take a breath, and tell us when you're ready. No pressure, no expectations, no worries. All right?"

It's easier advice to follow than Patton would have expected. One deep breath, that's all it takes, and then...

"...Patton. My name is Patton."

He looks up to see them all smiling at him--except for Remus, who is frowning down at his list.

"That wasn't on here..." He mutters. "I thought it'd follow the pattern and end in an 's' somehow!"

"Mine doesn't do that." Virgil points out, shrugging. "Anyway, Patton, it suits you."

Janus' smile brightens. "Thank you for telling us, Patton."

For the first time in a long time, the ever-present knot in Patton's stomach loosens, the tension that bleeds through his body dissipating in the warmth of acceptance.

He's riding so high he doesn't even notice that his room has moved until the next morning, when he opens his door to a brighter, friendlier, cleaner hallway.

* * *

Deceit, however, discovers the change right away, torn from his reading by a loud howling _scream_ in the corridor.

The Baron is tearing at a blank wall, making holes in the stained plaster where a door should have been. Deceit stares for a moment, unwilling to process what he's seeing, what the door-less space means, and then suddenly he finds himself pulling Roman away from the wall, pinning his wildly swinging arms to his sides.

"He's gone." The Baron spits out, voice ragged. "Anxiety left, he's _gone_."

The impulsive Side growls, seething, and Logan knows he has to say something before the growling turns into screaming again.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon enough." He soothes, adjusting his grip so that the spikes on Roman's coat aren't pressing into him. He doesn't believe it for a second, of course, and he can tell that the Baron doesn't buy it either, but he also knows that both of them will accept and take comfort in the lie until it can't hold up to the ravages of time.

"I'd give it a few days." Logan murmurs.

Yes, he thinks, that's about how long this particular falsehood will hold up until everything comes crashing back down again.


End file.
